


Chapter 1 - A cold night out

by KitsunaOkami



Series: Sterek- Communication(Derek's P.O.V) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 19th Century, Comedy, English, Fanart, Fluff, Français | French, M/M, Master/Servant, Misunderstandings, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 05:44:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15136415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitsunaOkami/pseuds/KitsunaOkami
Summary: Derek never thought a business affair in NewYork with his father would lead him to meet this overly friendly stranger whom he can't seem to get rid of... Nor want to.





	Chapter 1 - A cold night out

**Author's Note:**

> This the first time in 10 years I've actually written a story on my own. I would like to mention that English isn't my first language, so please don't be too hard on mistakes. ♥ I will correct them if you point them out though.

Derek glanced at the horses trotting by during this cold evening. The sun slowly moving off to the horizon, threatening the freezing people to hurry back home before it turned dark. Winter had just begun, and Derek could already tell it was going to be a hard one for many. But not for him, of course. He came from a large wealthy family, he didn’t have to worry about the cold, nor where to sleep. He was only going to be in New Work for a week anyways. His father insisted he joined him on this business trip so one day he could carry out the family’s business. The Hales were well known when it came to steam engineering, including trains and labor machines. They had built multiple train lines across the country, and were about to make a new deal with the state to create a direct transportation to the other side of the continent. His father kept reminding him about how important that deal was for them. Not that Derek minded that much, it was one of the rare moment his father actually paid any attention to him or his sisters.

They had dinner with other wealthy families, the Argents and some high architects. His father was interested in the Argents’ mines of silver, but Derek felt kind of weird about it. Something about the man, Gerard, crept him out. And all the financial talk gave him a headache. He left his father as this one started drinking with the others in celebration to their association, he rather head back to the hotel. His father reminded him to buy the newspaper on his way out. The man always had the habit to give him those weird fetch tasks.

Derek jumped a little at the sudden rattle happening down the street. Sounded like a collision between two carriages. Not unusual, but quite annoying. Derek took out his wallet to pay for a copy of the news a poor man was selling by the corner. His dad always wanted them to stay up-to-date with the market prices and political news. With this awful weather, the newsman lost quite a few of his pages. Derek felt a certain pity towards the guy, so he gave him a little bit of an extra tip. He always thought that; the higher you are above the mass, the more generous you should be towards their hard work.

Derek moved closer to an entrance as he attempted to lit up a cigar, but the wind kept putting out his matches. He sighed as he gave the journal a quick glance, all old, nothing new. He wasn’t sure what was the point of looking at those paper so often. It’s not like a sudden market crash could happen. He better walk back to the hotel to read in peace, it would take hours for a cab to get by with this accident probably blocking the whole street. He gave the matches one last try before putting the cigar back in the small coopered case. He tilted his hat slightly to protect his face from the cold wind.

Derek walked for a moment, trying to avoid bumping into anyone and everyone; but because of the accident, most people seemed to have decided to walk too; making it harder to see where he was going. He groaned as a man bumped into him “Arg, careful!” He called out as he turned around. The stranger also turned, and the time seemed to have suddenly stopped for Derek. A young brunette with a fair skin, redden by the cold winter wind. Mysterious dark eyes looking right back into his. The whole milky way printed on his face, like his face was the map leading to the most valuable tresor. The guy then smiled, almost shyly, and nodded before he turned back and hurried off.

It took Derek a moment to realize he was standing there in awe with the guy. He never had that kind of feeling before, but he really should get over it. He shook his head and kept walking. He knew very well that he should forget about this guy, he’ll probably never see him again… Not that he should either way. Having this kind of reaction towards another man is… Wrong. At least that’s what everyone always said. Not that he cared anyways, why should he care!?

Derek clenched his fists and placed them in his pockets… What the!? His wallet was gone. He tried the back pockets but nothing. Could it be!? “You son of a bitch!” he cursed under his breath. It wasn’t too late, the guy probably wasn’t very far. 

Derek turned around, running through the crowd. Apologizing quickly at everyone he was pushing off. 

And as expected, he spotted the guy quickly “Stop right there thief!” He yelled. 

The brunette did turn back for a second, but with a panicked look on his face this time. This one started sprinting away. 

Derek couldn’t believe it, he chased after the guy.

The stranger was pretty fast, but not as fast as him. 

Derek managed to turn and dodge all the pedestrians. Following the thief close by. 

The brunette made the mistake to turn in an alley. 

Derek got close enough to tackled the man to the ground, making this one groan at the pain. 

He grabbed the brunette by the collar, it is then that he actually noticed everything besides this one’s face. The guy was wearing old rags as clothes, nothing warm enough to stand winter. His body covered in dirt and scarred. He was one of those homeless boys. 

Derek snatched his wallet from the guy’s pocket before he pushed him back down“ A criminal, that’s all you are.” He mumbled, disgusted by the guy. They shared a long stare, only breaking because of the grumbly noise from the brunette. The homeless grasped his own stomach, looking almost in pain. Derek wasn’t a heartless monster as much as he wished he was right now. He can’t help but reach into his wallet and take some cash out that he then threw at the guy. “Go buy yourself some food and clothes.”. The homeless stared back at him, surprised… Or maybe confused. Derek couldn’t tell. “Merci…” The man mumbled then. “Yes, I did have mercy on you. Don’t you dare do that again.” Derek warned him before he turned around and left.

Derek finally reached his hotel; It took at least a good hour, maybe the cab would have been worth it after all. He removed his hat and cloak, hanging them by the door and grabbing the nearby candle that he lit easily. No more winds to blow off his attempts. He then got the fireplace lit so he could warm up the place. It was a chic room. He had a king sized bed, a desk, libraries with books, a couch and comfy chair and a nice fireplace made of hand polished stones. Even inside restrooms. All that for himself…Well he was sharing it with his father when this one wasn’t in some kind of meeting. Some servants would also bring him some food three times a day or any time he would request some. It wasn’t quite as nice as his house, but for a one week stay it would do the trick.

He sat down at the table and opened the journal “October 28th 1852… Time really seems to fly.” He mumbled with a small smile. He didn’t mind travelling so much, though,he did miss his sisters and his mom... He can’t wait to go back home, pet the dogs, swim in the nearby lake. He knew he had to participate in the family’s business, but he missed the simpler times.

He read a couple of pages about economics, but he still wondered how some people manage to stay awake reading those. Such long texts, going over the same statements over and over again. At this rate, Derek felt as he’d never be as passionate about it as his dad. The old man could talk about steam engines for hours on, Derek was eager to see the project done… And that’s about it. Even the whole part about meeting clients, or people in general, bored him. He never was very social, and his sisters teased him countless time for it. But he had to follow his father’s footsteps, for his sisters and his mom. He’d do anything to make sure they are safe and well.

A knock echoed against the front door, making Derek toss the journal for a moment. Maybe a servant was bringing him more dinner, or his dad was back and had somehow forgotten his keys?. “Coming” he called and walked to the door, he grabbed his wallet for the tip before opening. But standing on the other side wasn’t who he expected. 

“What are you-” Derek exclaimed as the homeless from early was standing there, grinning. 

This one hurried inside without Derek’s permission “What do you think you’re doing!? How did you get past the people guarding this hotel!?” He questioned, still getting no response from the stranger. 

The man unfold whatever he was holding, revealing some breads. They looked fresh… Did he get that with the money? The brunette presented the bread, maybe as some kind of offering? “Pain” the stranger said, a wide smile still stamped on his face. Derek got even more confused “Ar- You in pain? Why are you smiling like that!?”. Derek didn’t know what to do, should he call security? The guy didn’t seem dangerous, but he had no clue what the hell this one was doing here. 

The stranger tilted his head, he seemed thoughtful, but he had no clue what this one was thinking… Nor why this one was saying weird things… Norrr why he was here in the first place. The brunette looked back at him, making Derek expect some kind of conversation to happen… No introduction, nothing. He was stuck with a hobo in his room. If his father came back to a homeless man in the room he’d probably get extremely mad, but Derek never had such a weird situation happened before and he had no clue what to do.

“Pain?” The man asked again, shoving one of the breads into Derek’s hands. He looked down at it for a long time as the other started to eat “I still don’t get what you mean by this bread being in pain. Or you being in pain?” Derek mumbled, he shook his head “But you can’t stay here!”. His words seemed to have gotten the man’s attention, again with the confused look. “Je me disais, qu’il serait bien de partager.” Wow, finally the stranger spoke more than a word, instead it was a serie of words that Derek had no clue what the hell it meant. “What…?”, “Quoi?” . They exchanged and stared.

The whole situation was awkward, but somewhat getting clearer now; the homeless was probably foreign and didn’t understand a word he said. Great. How do you tell someone to get the fuck out in another language?

Derek placed the bread on the table and rubbed his eyes as he groaned. The next moment he looked at the guy, this one was sitting down on the floor by the fireplace. He seemed to be warming up. 

“Hey! You’re not staying here.” He warned and nudge the guy with his feet slightly. 

The brunette jumped a bit and blinked a couple times before he stood back up. 

He nodded at Derek… Though he was pretty sure he didn’t get a word. The guy held his hand out “Stiles!” He said, pointing at himself. Were they making introductions now? Derek stared at the hand, but didn’t shake it “Derek…” He mumbled back. The guy let his hand fall and gave a forced smile. The awkwardness was surreal. 

“Dérek!” The brunette repeated in what would probably be the best attempt Derek could get at this guy pronouncing his name right. “C’est une belle chambre! Je peux y rester dormir?” Stiles questioned. Derek almost regretted wishing for any kind of conversation between them, now he is the one not understanding shit. He gave a shrug, obviously annoyed and confused. But the brunette grinned “Merci!”. Great, what did he do? Can’t be good if he’s grinning. 

“Tu sais, j’en avais vraiment marre de ces ruelles. Vraiment! Un peu de nettoyage ne peux faire de mal tu sais! J’ai commencer à élever des rats qui sont plus propres que la majorité des déchets que les gens y jettes par ici!-”. 

O.M.G. He doesn’t stop talking now! What had he done!? 

“You. Can’t. Stay. Here!” Derek repeated, grabbing the guy by the arm. 

Hell, if he had to use brute force to get him out he will. 

Derek threw the guy out by the door he came from, and before this one could say anything he quickly closed the door. 

All he heard was a grunt sound from Stiles and what seemed to be confusion “Dérek?! J’ai dis quelque chose de mal!?”. Derek took a deep breathe and moved away from the door in case Stiles would try to get chatty again. He hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with him again.

Derek was glad that Stiles hadn’t tried to come back in. He rolled his knife against the small wooden object in his hands; peeling off a layer he then flicked into the fireplace. Derek enjoyed sculpting objects or people from pieces of wood. It reminded him of peaceful times at home. He’d sculpt anything he’d find pretty or intriguing, like the guy he met tonight. Heck, the guy was unbearable, but he still decided to try sculpting his face, at least until his father would return.

It was getting late, and his father wasn't back yet. Derek wondered how much this one was drinking or spending at games. He did start to worry a little, even though he probably shouldn’t. His father being gone missing for hours to days wasn’t unusual. He glanced at his carving, not sure what to do with it now. Maybe his father shouldn’t see this, he never was one to approve of crafts. 

He stood up and place the sculpt in his coat’s pocket, deciding then to go rest for a bit, until his father comes back. Then maybe he’ll get more details on the deal going on between their families.


End file.
